Archive for the ‘Hollywood’ Category

Letter From New York 08 12 2016 How lucky was I?

August 12, 2016

The air is hot and heavy, damp and uncomfortable.  I watch my creek from the comfort of the cottage; it is southern in its weather oppression and is the definition for languid summer days, of which I have had my share this week.  Outside it is now grey and thunder rolls in the distance.

Finishing “The Hotel on Place Vendome,” I am now deeply into a history of the 304 year long reign of the Romanovs, from Michael to Nicholas II, who died with his family in front of a firing squad in 1918 in the Ipatiev House in Yektaringburg.  The founder of his dynasty was called to the throne from the Ipatiev Monastery.

I napped this afternoon and have now a slew of errands to do come morning.  My printer has died, a new one is needed.  Groceries must be shopped for as friends come for dinner tomorrow night, the invitation offered in an effort to bring me out of the summer stupor.

Walking on Cape Cod last weekend, I did not wear the right shoes and have fierce blisters on my heels I am working to heal.  Tuesday morning, I could barely walk and have been wearing flip flops all week.

Flip flops, books, a couple of good martinis, not a bad way to spend a summer week. 

Trump claimed Obama and Hillary Clinton founded ISIS, now he says it was sarcasm but the reality is that Mr. Trump is on the verge of becoming a parody of himself.  It makes me feel hopeful but it is 2016 and anything can yet happen.

The US claims the Head of IS in Afghanistan has been killed and the amount of territory controlled by them in Syria and Iraq is diminishing.  Syria is still a hell hole and when I was complaining to myself about my blisters, I stopped myself:  I could be in Syria.  You have only very first world problems, Mathew. 

Digital Media is being subsumed by old media.  Companies like Disney and Turner and Hearst are putting hundreds of millions, even billions, into new media companies.  As one declines and the other ascends, the ascendants will be owned by the decliners.  Old media is putting its fortunes to work.  Good moves.

Netflix, definitely a new media company, aired a documentary, “Making a Murderer.”  One of the results was that today one of the accused has been ordered freed from prison, largely due to the incompetent actions of his defense attorney.  Brendan Dasey has been ordered released in ninety days. 

Media attention does bring action.

In a new and heartbreaking report, the CDC has released data about LGB students, indicating they are more likely to be bullied and more likely to consider and attempt suicide than their straight peers. 

It is 2016 and still this happens.  I was so lucky when I was their age.  I wasn’t bullied in high school and I still marvel at that.  I considered suicide but that had much more to do with my complicated family life than my sexuality.

A good article about the situation can be found here:

http://www.bustle.com/articles/178365-gay-high-schoolers-experience-rape-bullying-suicide-at-much-higher-rates-heartbreaking-cdc-report-finds

As I sit here, looking out at my creek, I celebrate how lucky I was, particularly in high school but also in college.  This is a global problem, not just an American problem.

How lucky was I?  I have gotten through life mostly not harassed by my sexuality.  Only two times do I remember anything.  Once early on in Minneapolis, a casual and not harsh moment, and once here in Hudson, when two teenagers called my ex-partner and I “fags.”  Now, same sex couples walk down the street in Hudson and no one bothers them. Twice in a lifetime… How lucky am I?

It’s time to wind down and I want to introduce you to Beatrice, my banana plant.  Beatrice came into my life when I briefly dated Raj, a psychotherapist of Indian extraction by way of Trinidad, who insisted I buy a banana plant.  I did and now Beatrice has become huge and may one day well take over my home.

Meet Beatrice:

IMG_1339

Letter From New York 08 10 2016 Gloomy but not ugly…

August 10, 2016

In my driveway there is a floodlight with a dusk until dawn timer.  It was so gloomy this morning, “dawn” did not arrive until about 9:30.  As bright and beautiful as the days were before, today has been singularly dark, a day when one wants to slip quietly into a corner and delve deep into a mystery. 

I didn’t do that all day but some of the day, reading “The Hotel on Place Vendome,” a study of the Ritz Hotel before, during and after WWII.  Good reading, not quite a mystery, not quite a page turner but a sound non-fiction account of the place that was at the center of Parisian life in those tumultuous years. 

Of course, “Papa” Hemingway appears and his appearances further tatter the legend he built around himself even as his writing powers were beginning to fade, worn down by drinking and partying.

Reichsmarshall Hermann Goring was a morphine addict and spent at least part of the war soaking in the large bathtubs at the Ritz, attempting to wean himself off the drug.

Something like 80,000 children fathered by Germans were born in France during the war years.

It is a time we have not known.  Somewhere today, I was reading an article online and the author was saying the last 70 years had been a dream.  We had gone to peace and are now awaking into another era, not so peaceful.  Yes, perhaps, but we did “duck and cover” as children and during the Cuban missile crisis my very young mind was convinced that we would all be evaporated.

It is not a peaceful world but never has it been very peaceful.  I am peaceful this very moment, wrapped in a cloudy, gloomy day with verdant trees outside my windows, skies heavy with promises of rain, snug inside my cottage, the only sound the humming of the refrigerator.

The thunder of the campaign trail has been held at bay for the most part by my simply choosing not to delve much into it.  Trump said something about “Second Amendment” folks should do something about Hillary and Democrats are charging that he was inciting violence against her.  Of course he wasn’t, he said.

And Hillary has her blind spots, this week they’ve been showing up in relations between the Clinton Foundation and the State Department.

Though the report I was reading was released by a conservative group so I will add my grain of salt to what I was reading.  Just as I put a bit of salt into my reading of the Democratic reaction to Trump’s latest.  Don’t get me wrong, I won’t vote for the man.  He’s crackers…

The number of ill considered things the man has said has slowly become numbing, no longer outraging me.  It is just one unbelievable thing after another and, as far as I can tell, Trump’s not enjoying it much himself.

And he is embattled by his fellow Republicans.  Susan Collins, Senator from Maine, has disavowed Trump.  She’ll vote Libertarian or write in someone.  She won’t support him or Hillary but go her own way.  She is not alone.  A dismaying number of Republicans are following her.

Whereas Clinton…  I think she — and he — live for this kind of season, coming alive in amazing ways.  Though Bill looks frail these days, a shadow of the man.

The Department of Justice released its report about the Police Department in Baltimore.  “Scathing but not surprising” was one headline.  In Ferguson, MO the wheels of justice are turning very slowly there, two years after Michael Brown died.  Change is slow in coming, disheartening to many but the wheels are turning, I hope.

Like many, I have received two phone calls telling me the IRS is about to start a lawsuit against me.  It’s a scam and it makes me crazy and people are being sucked in.  One man paid the scammers $500,000 before he got wise.  So ugly…

And while it is not beautiful outside, it is not ugly in my corner of the world.

Letter From Claverack, NY August 4th, 2016 Have we learned so little?

August 5, 2016

It is a little after 8 pm and the sun is setting in the Hudson Valley.  I have been a “prisoner” of my cottage for the last few hours as I have had my deck re-stained and I was not to go out and touch it until about now.

The trees over the creek are verdant green and the water in the creek is crystal clear. It has been a good day, in all sorts of ways.  I woke up happy and I enjoy that kind of moment. 

A couple of nights ago I was in distress, my lungs were congested and I was having a bit of trouble breathing.  Stumbling through the medicine chest, I found and took a Mucinex and woke up the next morning with the congestion at bay, breathing again.

There is nothing like being able to breathe.

And it is hard to breathe in this current political season. 

I have never in my adult life lived through such as season as this.

Anyone who reads me must understand how deeply disturbed I am that Trump is the Republican nominee for President.  And the more he prances across the stage, the more concerned I am. 

The New York Times did a video piece about the hatred they had witnessed while following Trump’s campaign.  It was disturbing.  You can view it here:

http://www.nytimes.com/2016/08/04/us/politics/donald-trump-supporters.html?emc=eta1&_r=0

I am at my dining room table and the sun has set and night has fallen.   I am wrapped in the coziness of the cottage and am so grateful I am here.

Were I someplace else the craziness of our time might well make me mad but I can retreat for moments into the woods and believe, for a second, no harm could possibly come.

Like most of you I cannot believe the season in which we find ourselves. 

This is not what I expected out of the 2016 political season.  A friend of mine and I waged a friendly bet some months ago.  He believed the Republican candidate would be Rubio; I went with Bush. 

Both wrong.  It’s Trump, who has solidified the anger of disenfranchised white Americans, who have reason to be angry.  The world is passing them by…

But really?  All this hate?  It is a return to the realities of 19th and early 20th Century America where hatred moved from Germans, Italians, Poles, Irish, Jews…

A friend of mine who is Jewish remembers his grandmother in the early 20th Century hiding from mobs running through Lower Manhattan, screaming “Kill the Jews!”

We are on the verge of some of us screaming, “Kill the Muslims!”

Have we learned so little?

Letter From New York 08 02 2016 Going up the river…

August 3, 2016

The Hudson River flows south as I move north, the west bank is a wall of green and great, grey billowy clouds hover over the river with the sun now cutting between them to bathe me in light.  I am returning from a day in the city, a meeting with a client followed by a long lunch with my friend Nick.  An afternoon appointment cancelled and so I changed to an earlier train.

I haven’t written much lately.  Frankly, there has been so much to say about so many things I haven’t known where to begin or where to end.  There was the Democratic Convention last week.  I watched the finish of it the night I returned to the cottage after my Minnesota sojourn.

Hillary, who needed to be at her best, was at her best.  The Democrats were shadowed then and are today, by the hacking of the DNC’s emails, which were released by Wikileaks to the press.  Julian Assange, who is the head of Wikileaks, even while sequestered behind the walls of the Bolivian Embassy in London, timed it to do the most damage he could to Hillary, whom he reputedly despises.

Today, Amy Dacey, CEO of the DNC and two other officials resigned after the leaks demonstrated their bias to Clinton over Sanders.

Donna Brazile has replaced the much reviled Debbie Wassermann Schultz, former Chairperson.  Brazile is well liked and had been suggested by the Sanders camp as a possible replacement for Wassermann Schultz.

And we are all waiting to find out if the Russians were the ones who hacked the DNC as digital evidence seems to suggest which, of course, has led people to ask if Putin is working to influence our elections?

According to one poll, 50% of Americans think he is.  Would he try?  I am convinced there is very little he wouldn’t try.

Trump out trumps himself everyday as far as I can tell.  I am seated next to a friend of mine on the train who has confessed he has had panic attacks at the thought of a Trump Presidency.  He is not much given to panic attacks that I recall.

And Trump seems to find a new way to disturb me every day but nothing he does seem to sway his die hard supporters.

Jacques Hamel, the 86 year old French priest, who had his throat slit while saying Mass, was buried today.  He was killed by two teenage jihadists.  In honor to him, thousands of Muslims attended Mass on Sunday and appeared today at his funeral.

The Rio Olympics open this Friday and I am largely unenthusiastic.  The sports I am most interested in are aquatic and the reports of the condition of the water makes me cringe for the athletes who must compete.  I am not sure the pool water is safe and the open waters seem to be filled with human refuse and garbage.

I thought I was alone until my friend, Nick, echoed my thoughts.

The Syrian government and the Rebel forces are accusing each other of gas attacks.  It seems someone used gas in Syria.  We have forgotten the lessons of other wars or perhaps whomever did it felt justified because Saddam Hussein used it effectively against some of his citizens before he lost his place.

A friend of mine asked me a couple of weeks ago how we could still call Turkey a democracy?  Magical thinking…

As we move north up the Hudson, the heavy clouds have dispersed and the sun rules the river, silver light glinting off of silver water, reflecting against banks of green rising from river’s edge.

I tried to find something funny to end today’s post.  I googled “funny thing that happened today” and “laughable thing that happened today.”  It doesn’t seem anything “funny” or “laughable” happened today, according to Google’s current algorithms. 

But I did find this:  on August 2nd, 1990, Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait, the beginning of all that has not yet ended.

Letter From New York via Minnesota… A reset…

July 22, 2016

It is early on a Friday evening in Bloomington, MN.  The heat index is somewhere around 103 degrees.  There is an excessive heat warning tonight and I am inside my brother’s lovely home, looking out at beautiful flowers and great green trees.

After my last posting, one of my readers, Bruce Thiesen, suggested I get to Minnesota and “reset.”  And I think I have. 

As I am sitting here I am watching the news regarding the terrible events that have happened in Munich.  A few days ago it would have driven me to despair.  Today, I grieve and yet I do not despair.

I feel refreshed and, suddenly, strangely, hopeful. 

Last night, The Donald, painted a picture of a dark America, an America, quite frankly, that is far darker than I see, even in my darkest moments.  We have a disturbingly large number of incidents of police acting irresponsibly and we have had a tragic reaction against police in Dallas and Baton Rouge.

And the reality is that crime is down in this country.  We are safer than we have been in a long time, despite the terrible moments we have seen lately.  And I, and you, need to remember that.

We have issues that need to be addressed.  The aggrieved who are flocking to Trump have legitimate complaints.  This complicated world has created issues we are just beginning to address.  And I hope that we do address them.

But at this moment I reject the dark world that Trump espoused last night.  As troubled as we are, it is better than he presents it. 

What troubles me is that he presents himself as the strongman savior which is new to American politics but not new to the historical reality of politics.  Let us remember Mussolini and Hitler. 

This is a new moment in American politics.  And it is concerning to me.  And yet I am not as disturbed as I was a few days ago. 

The German shooter may or may not have been Islamic or may or may not have been Rightist.  We are all waiting to find out exactly what happened there.

Whatever happened, I will say a prayer for all of them, the wounded and the dead.  I bow my head.  But I will not bow my head and submit to the terror that is being sold to us.

And as horrible as it has been it has not been as horrible as it has been.  We are a less violent country than we were despite the high profile incidents we have which are deplorable.

Sitting in my brother’s kitchen, I am, suddenly, thankfully, hopeful.  Thank you, Bruce, for asking me to “reset.”  I needed to…

Letter From New York 07 11 2016 From seaside to creekside…

July 11, 2016

I have moved from seaside to creekside.  In front of me tonight is not Edgartown harbor but Claverack Creek, having returned home from Edgartown on Friday, just as Lionel and Pierre arrived to help me celebrate my return.

It has been nearly a week, perhaps more, since I have written.  The events out in the world beyond my safety zone of Edgartown and Claverack, have left me…

You know, I am out of words for the events we’ve had.  I don’t know what to say, not at all, not at all.

A black man dead in Baton Rouge, a black man dead in Falcon Heights, MN and five dead police officers in Dallas.  As I sat down to write, my phone chirped to let me know that two bailiffs in Berrien County, Michigan were dead, along with the gunman.  A deputy sheriff was in stable condition.

Eight Somali are dead from a suicide bomber.

My head and heart reel.

We all must realize we live in a time of madness or we live in ignorance of the world.  But then, perhaps, it has always been a time of madness.

The pudgy little dictator who rules North Korea who has devised some interesting ways of ridding himself of people he doesn’t like, is having a temper tantrum because the US is putting in a missile shield in South Korea. 

Now he is threatening that if it happens, he will reduce South Korea to a nuclear wasteland.  If he does that, I doubt the radiation will stop at the border and he will find his “kingdom” littered with corpses, too. 

Kim Jong Un is a bully with nuclear weapons and not much common sense.  This isn’t good. And he has closed the only communication channel he has had ßwith the US.

David Cameron is resigning on Wednesday and Theresa May will become the next Prime Minister of Great Britain as they and the rest of us cope with Brexit.  The opposition Labour Party is in chaos too and another woman may take over leadership of it.  Jeremy Corbyn is seen as having done too little to help the UK stay in the EU and Angela Eagle is seen as being the person who will succeed him, once he realizes he is a morte canard, which he hasn’t yet.

The evening sun is glittering on the creek and I find myself looking at it, the way I looked at Edgartown harbor, as a reminder that despite what we do, the world has its places of beauty that help us compensate for the madness around us.

The US is boosting troops in Iraq as the march goes on to retake Mosul from IS.  In  South Sudan we are evacuating our people because war has renewed there.

The Japanese have been through their own moratorium and the result is there may be changes to their constitution which will allow Japan to build up its military.  They are afraid of Chinese expansionism in the South China Sea, an area in which the Chinese feel like they are victims and not aggressors.

While all of this strum und drang is playing out on the world stage, out in outer space, a probe has arrived at Juno, a moon of Jupiter, one second late after a five year journey.  And that blows my mind.  It will explore Juno and Jupiter and may help us understand the beginnings of our solar system.

This wonder is happening while murder walks the land.  How bizarre…

And I am thinking of going online and pre-ordering a Cozmo, a little robot that promises to be to robotics as the Commodore 64 was to computing — a break through.  Cozmo promises to be a great robotic companion and you can program it from an app.

Yes, need to have one.  I don’t have a pet anymore and am not thinking of getting one and Cozmo may just be the answer to a companion in my house on the creek where I sit and enjoy while the world seems too mad for words.

Letter From New York 06 01 2016 Random Thoughts from the Vineyard…

June 2, 2016

It is Wednesday evening, the 1st of June and it has been a lovely day on the Vineyard.  I woke to a brilliant sun, skiffing off the water in the harbor, glinting up into my room.   

It was a quiet day at Edgartown Books.  I came home relatively early and am sitting down to write a letter while the sun slips away, beneath clouds that are rolling in from the ocean, promising a cooler and less brilliant day tomorrow.

Before his death, my father was the Minneapolis Manager for Taystee Bread and all of his children were taught to straighten up the loaves of our bread in any market we went into.  I am feeling that way about the books in the shop.  If I see something out of alignment, I get itchy to go fix it, make it neat.

Before leaving the house today, I checked the news online.

Documents from Trump University and statements from its former employees  made the “university” sound more a scam than an educational opportunity.  One manager called it a “fraudulent scheme.”  Ouch.  The principle seemed to be sell, not educate.

But, it must be noted, the program did have its supporters.

If elected, Trump could become the first President elect to have to testify in a fraud trial against himself.

Hillary Clinton seized the day and the news, using the Trump University documents as a reason to call Trump a fraud.  I am sure he will call her a loser; he thinks everyone but him is a loser.

Later in the day, my phoned pinged with a news update:  there was an apparent murder/suicide on the campus of UCLA.  The reasons are yet unknown; it appears a student shot a professor and then himself.

A French ship has detected another sort of ping, from one of the Black Box recorders from the Egypt Air Airbus which crashed into the sea.

Saudi Arabia, which is attempting to diversify its oil economy, has invested $3.25 billion in Uber, which also looks at the Mideast as a great place to grow its business.  And since Saudi Arabia doesn’t allow women to drive, having the service may give its women more freedom.

In Mogadishu, capital of tattered Somalia, a car bomb went off and killed at least 15.

While watching the news with Jeffrey, I discovered that today would have been Marilyn Monroe’s 90th birthday, had she not died in 1962.  From the time of her discovery until her death, she lived 17 tumultuous, star crossed years and remains one of Hollywood’s most potent icons.

Once upon a time, in my early days in Hollywood, I did research for some Hollywood writers, among them Richard Lamparski who wrote all the “Whatever Became Of…?” books.  He called her death “a good career move.”

Tragically, he was right.  In death she has earned far more than in life.  While Elizabeth Taylor was earning a million a film, she was being paid a hundred thousand.  Monroe’s estate has carefully managed her assets and through licensing has made millions every year.

I remember as a little boy bringing in the morning paper with huge headlines:  MARILYN MONROE DEAD.  I couldn’t believe it.  But it was true.  And she is wound together in the Kennedy mythology because she reportedly slept both with John F. and Robert Kennedy.

It is even said she called Jackie to tell her that she was having an affair with Jack Kennedy.  Reportedly, Jackie responded: go ahead, marry him.  Then you have all the problems.

My god, but what figures played on the world stage then.  The Kennedys, all of them… Marilyn Monroe, Elizabeth Taylor, Jackie Kennedy Onassis, Martin Luther King, Lyndon Johnson, great figures who dwarf what we offer today. 

Obama and Hillary Clinton will go down in history.  He the first black President, she, win or lose, the first woman to credibly march toward the Presidency. 

But my childhood was filled with giants and there are few of them left.  Jack Kennedy may have been one of the most flawed men to sit in the Oval Office yet we cannot not seem to love him and his era.   

That Trump is a serious contender for the Presidency points to the paucity of spirit in this time.  Really, Trump?  A bombastic, narcissistic loon who seems more related to Mussolini than to Lincoln is going to be the Republican nominee for President?

As someone who is, I think, a thinking American, I am APPALLED.

However, as a commentator said the other day: hey, it’s 2016, anything can happen.

The light has faded over Edgartown harbor and as my battery grows low on my laptop, I must cease. 

Really, Trump? This is the best the Republicans can do?  Where is Everett Dirksen when we need him?

Letter From New York 05 30 2016 Memorial Day thoughts from the Vineyard…

May 31, 2016

A dense fog is beginning to settle on Edgartown harbor after a wet, chill day; rain pummeled down in sheets for a time and then there was the damp aftermath.   I was delighted that I had thought to bring a sweater with me to the bookstore.

There was a steady stream of customers through the store and while it didn’t seem busy, when we closed out we had had a rather good day, he said, sounding like a shopkeeper.

Bookstore front

I have a whole new respect for people who work in retail.  I have always attempted to be nice to them.  I will work even harder. 

One elderly lady was in the store, with her daughter I think.  My colleague, Stav, took care of them.  Her credit card said her name was Gimbel and he asked if she was any relation to the department store Gimbels?  And they nodded and said yes, they were.

It was Gimbel’s Department Store in New York that started the Thanksgiving Day Parade, watched by millions every year, now the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.  But back when they made the original “Miracle on 34th Street” it was Gimbel’s that was making the parade.

Gimbel’s and Macy’s were both sold to Federated at some point and they phased out the Gimbel’s name in the 1980’s.  The daughter said that no one young remembers them but Stav is younger than me by far and he remembered them.

Macy’s was the child of Isidor Strauss, who went down on Titanic with his wife, Ada.  She would not be parted from her husband as the ship was sinking. 

There are several memorials to their love in New York, most famous is the small park near 106 and Broadway, by which I have often walked.

It is Memorial Day and I don’t want that to go unnoticed.  I thought about it when I was swinging, at last, out of bed today.  I went to bed early last night, incredibly tired and slept long, having wild murder mystery dreams.  [One of the things Joyce asked me to do was make suggestions for new mysteries to order…]

It is Memorial Day and I was thinking of all the men and women who have served  the US in all its wars. 

And always, on Memorial Day, I think about Greg Harrison, with whom I went to high school.  Older than me, he enlisted in the Army after high school and died in some rice patty in Viet Nam.

He was a gentle soul.  He once teased me about something and when he realized he had touched a chord that hurt, became protective of me.  And I remember him every Memorial Day.  I went to his funeral in Minneapolis and could not comprehend he was not with us anymore.

I still cannot quite comprehend that he is not with us anymore.  I still remember the moment when he realized the tease hurt me.  He had not meant to and after that, he was very good to me.

When this day comes, I mourn him.  And will, until I die. 

I am not in Minnesota and so cannot bring flowers to my parent’s graves; my brother does that, thankfully, as he does to our Uncle Joe, who was the most important father figure in our lives.  Our father was a reticent man, not much given to social interchanges.  Uncle Joe, however, was, and living next door to us, embraced us all. 

When I was twelve, my father died and Uncle Joe did his best to be the best uncle he could be to me.  He loved all his nieces and nephews and did his best to be fair and generous to us all. 

He is remembered, too, this Memorial Day.

In the meantime, politics plunges on toward whatever end.  I am weary and wary, fearful and fretful and it will be what it will be.  And when I return from my summer sojourns, I must do what I can to see Trump is not the next President.

Ah, fog envelops the harbor.   At this moment, no boats at anchor can be seen.  Time for dinner, a little time and then to sleep, perchance to dream…

Letter From New York 05 23 2016 Letter From New York Thoughts from the train north from Baltimore…

May 23, 2016

It is Monday morning and I am riding an overcrowded train from Baltimore to New York after spending the weekend there visiting friends.  At one point I thought I might end up sitting on the floor but found a seat at the very front of the train.

Outside ruined building pass; we are somewhere just north of Philadelphia.  Exotic graffiti adorns them while the sun blasts down.  Beyond the ruins lie bedraggled row houses that probably will someday be gentrified.  What contrasts we have in this country.

Baltimore is in a resurgence, at least near the water, where my friends live.  We dined on Saturday night at Peter’s Inn, a wonderfully, quirky little row house restaurant, rough around the edges with handwritten menus, food arriving in the order that the chef has prepared it which is not necessarily the way you ordered it.  Good chill martinis and a nice little wine list, friendly people and that wonderful thing called “atmosphere” that has not been scrupulously concocted but which emerges from the quirkiness of the place and people.

It was a time of sitting around and visiting with Lionel and Pierre and my friend Allen Skarsgard, with whom I had some long philosophical conversations over the weekend.  We had known each other in the long ago and faraway, reconnecting just enough that we can mark the present without dwelling in our past.

There was, of course, talk of the brutal politics of this election cycle.  I don’t remember a question that was asked on MSNBC on Sunday morning but recall the response:  it’s 2016, ANYTHING can happen.

So it seems.

As it seems all over the world.  A far right candidate is deadlocked with his rival in Austria.  If Herbert Norber of the right wins, it will be the first time a far right candidate will have won a European election since the end of Fascism, a warning shot across the bow of the world.

Troubling for Hillary are national polls, of which we have several a day it seems, that have her potentially losing to Trump.  They have Bernie beating Trump by 10.8 points.

Predictions are that a “Brexit” from the European Union will spark a year long recession.  The drive for a British exit from the European Union is, at least partially, being driven by anti-immigration and nationalistic feelings in the country.

Is this a bit like what the 1930’s felt like? 

In the meantime, Emma Watson of “Harry Potter” fame and fortune is playing Belle in a live action version of “Beauty and the Beast.” Somehow that seems comforting to me this morning.

In Syria, IS has claimed the responsibility for killing scores in that poor, broken country in areas considered Assad strongholds.  A suicide bomber killed many Army recruits in Aden, Yemen.

And a drone strike killed the leader of the Taliban, Mullah Mansour, who opposed peace talks.  His death was confirmed by Obama, who will be the first sitting President to visit Hiroshima, struck by the US with an atomic bomb in !945, a move which forced the Japanese to move to surrender.  He has been in Viet Nam, where he lifted a fifty year old arms embargo, a move to help counter the rise of China in the South China Sea.

Moves and counter moves, the world is in play.  It always has been.  It just took longer in other times for the moves to be made and to feel their repercussions.  Now it’s almost instantaneous.

Letter From New York 05 13 2016 Thoughts on mortality….

May 14, 2016

It is Friday the 13th, a day feared by many as unlucky.  It has neither been lucky or unlucky for me, so far…

The cottage is ripe with the good feelings from a lovely dinner party last night.  There were six of us.  We had appetizers, soup, salad, fish, lamb or pork or both, baby gold Yukon potatoes, sautéed carrots, green beans with butter and ice cream and berries for dessert.  People arrived at seven and left after midnight.  A good time was had by all.

I am now in my fourth load in the dishwasher.  We had cocktails, champagne, white wine, red wine, cordials.  It was a long, delightful evening of food and wonderful conversation.  It was a moment of recognition of how lucky I am, to be in the cottage, to have friends, to be alive.

As I returned from the city on Tuesday, I got a text letting me know that Vinnie Kralyevich had died the night before.  He was fifty-two, was on the treadmill, collapsed and could not be revived.  He was someone I worked with a lot about nine years ago and I was staggered to learn he had passed.  I am older and there was another moment that reminded me of my own mortality.

I am at an age when mortality is knocking at my door.  The people who mentored me are growing older and are leaving the scene.  I have younger friends who are cursed with terminal diseases and are leaving me.

For more than fifteen years my friends Medora Heilbron and Meryl Marshall-Daniels have had a weekly call to check in and support each other.  It’s a phone support group.  Medora ran development for USA Network when I was out pitching shows.  Meryl got me involved with the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences.  I was on the Board of Governors when she was the Chair of the Academy.  Medora reached me on 9/11 just before I lost phone service to check on how I was.

It is a deep and rich sharing, once a week, except when one of us is out of the country.

Medora shared today that Bruce Lansbury, brother to Angela, a producer of great renown and who gave Medora her best break in the business, was suffering from Alzheimers.  Angela and Medora live in the same Los Angeles neighborhood, run into each other in markets but Medora had never introduced herself to Angela but, for some reason, she did this week at the Whole Foods in Brentwood.  She was devastated by the news that Bruce was alive but gone.

It is what all of us fear.  I do.

While I write this, on a day which has been dark and drear, a soft fog is descending around me, enveloping the creek, the end of a rainy, dismal day. And the view in front of me is a bit magical.  One could imagine woodland nymphs dancing in the distance.

However, there are no woodland nymphs dancing tonight in American politics. 

Trump has a butler who is now retired but still gives tours at his estate in Florida, Mar-a-Lago, built for Marjorie Merriweather Post, a cereal heiress whose daughter, Dina Merrill, was an accomplished actress.

He called Obama a “muzzie” who should be hung.  The Trump campaign is working to distance itself from those comments.  A “muzzie” is a Muslim, by the way.

I had a long chat with my client, Howard Bloom, who has just finished a new book, “The Mohammed Code.”  It is an exegesis of the roots of fundamentalism in Islam. We have battered back and forth about the book because it exposes the roots of ISIS and I am hoping will reflect the differentiation between fundamentalist Muslims and the majority of Muslims who have renounced the ugly parts of their religion.

This is the great conversation of today. We must come to peace with Islam and they must come to peace with us.  Not easy but must be done…